We Cannot Catch Raindrops
by Aki7
Summary: AU- A sequel to My Only Correct Decision. What will you do when your loved one falls apart, torn, broken and angry....because of you? If you hate him because he is the reason your pain, will you be ready to scrifice all your love? TsuHi TatxWat MxO
1. Dreams

**We Cannot Hold Raindrops**

by: Aki7

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**_Author's notes_**: This is my third Yami fic…though I never got to finish my 'other' fic…so anyway; I thought this one would be a better sequel to _My Only Correct Decision_ my a/u fic. I want to stress first that you people should try reading the mentioned fic before proceeding with this one since I would be referring stuff from that (that would be a choice and by the way, I would be putting some references anyway)…if you could follow this fic without wondering what this is about. Please do give a review to tell me if there is anything that you don't like, etc.

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[Prologue: **Dreams**]

"**T**_oday, _**I** _live as a phantom for_ **I** _still live in my past_"

The setting that would be witness to another story of memoirs is here, in a large old city, filled with churches every fifth street, gas lamps, cobbled stones, filled with gothic designs and carriages passed through the streets. Everything around was an epoch to an old world full of dark pretenses, of a fallen age of the mind, where even the smallest detail is given a touch of melancholy. The time now is early morning before dawn. No sunlight was visible except for the fast fading moon and the shades of midnight blue was slowly becoming lighter, and the horizon was dully marked with the faintest orange. During these moments, nothing can be heard except for the rustle of the tree leaves and a buzz or two from an insect lingering about. Nothing, can even notice the slightest movement because of the lack of sound. Only a quiet, moving shadow can betray that there was someone lurking in the morning mist.

Now let me tell to you about the lone person walking. He was not visible enough to be said that someone was really there. He was more like a ghost because he did not make the slightest sound. You could tell he was graceful, for he approached with such speed but without the drag one usually had when walking fast. The strides he did immediately brought him to a nearby church. There, he took his time to observe the cross on the top of the sacred building. The carvings, sharp features of the old walls of the church cast an intimidating shadow, sharply defining the carved lines in the dull light of the morning. This peculiar person moved forward and forced to open the heavy church doors and entered.

Inside the church, a young altar server was there, fixing the altar for the morning's service. He did not notice the man who entered a few moments ago. He continued fixing the candleholders, replacing the melted wax with newly, unspent candles. When he was passing to reach the other end of the front, he finally heard a soft thud on the ground.

"It's still early morn'n…oh dear," the altar servant said after finding a man, lying prostate on the ground. He was so surprised he did not move from his place. Both of his eyes were fixed on the young stranger, his mind becoming curious as every second passed. He could not just leave the man alone for he had to check if the prone body was hurt or anything.

He is still young, no signs of illness, he thought. Then why is this poor man here? Only one striking feature was showing through this unconscious man that made him alien—his slivery locks of hair. No one could own such kind of hair at neither would his young age permit his hair to turn silver, however, it had a texture of being its natural color. Was he human? His profile, with the addition of his ensemble of all-white long coat and garments made him unnatural.

The other man looked worriedly to the person lying on the ground. He was not sure about what to do. Finally, after a few seconds of doubt, he resolved to run to the rector for help. He turned his heel, only to be gripped by a strong grasp on the ankle.

"Pray, tell me what time I am in," said he, the man lying on the ground.

The altar server was reluctant to answer the man in from of him. But seeing how helpless the person on the ground was, he took thought of seeing for himself what he could do for the other man. "To-day is the start of the eighth month, sir."

"And the year?" the stranger asked calmly.

"1825."

"Positively?"

"Surely. I apologize myself for being rude sir, but you seem to hath not been able to keep track o' the days. Please do tell me why for I was quite surprised by your sudden arrival."

"My apologies for frightening you. I am pretty sure I have passed a long time. I have been arose from my sleep and thought to myself to try and walk. I actually did not know that I have spent almost the whole year in a comatose.

"I am very sorry, sir. I do hope you forgive my rudeness. Please let me help you up."

The man on the ground gladly accepted the hand he offered and got up. After balancing himself on his feet, the strange man plunged his hands inside the inside pocket of his coat and wore a pair of glasses before looking back at the altar server.

"I think today would be a nice day. I could manage to walk back home. Thank you for your help." The strange man gave a small bow and went out of the church, leaving the servant speechless. His curiosity got the better of him and he followed the man outside, only find out the there was no man to be seen. _Impossible_, he thought, _could it be a ghost?_ He felt uneasy thinking of this and immediately made a sign of the cross and rushed back inside the church and finished his tasks hastily.

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Rooms of the upper class during those days were lavish. Everything was elegant, graceful. The white walls were decorated by long, sweeping curves around pillars, wall edges even the mirror stands, chairs, tables and doors. Glowing candles and shimmering crystals, making them as regal displays of those who owned them, fill the grand chandeliers as they hung on the wall. Great lengths of tapestry fill many rooms of this mansion. Everything in this bountiful and large home was beautiful…including its occupants.

One such occupant was a male with surpassing beauty. His brown locks of hair fell unkempt on his white pillow as he slept. Nothing could compare to his complexion and the starkness of his eyes when opened. People oftentimes referred the young man as the 'emerald heir' because of the remarkable color of his eyes. Only early in the morning one cannot appreciate his loveliness. The darkness of the morning and the heavy drapery of his room secluded any light from the outside.

Today, however, one person seizes the opportunity to see him. He stood still outside the glass entrance doors in the balcony. He stood there as if in doubt if to break inside the room of the sleeping lad. At length, he moved slowly into the room, passing the glass without opening a single hinge. Placing a hand over the glass, he looked outside and gave a diabolic smile of satisfaction of entering without any physical means. A small laugh crept from his throat, more of a sensuous laugh, of passion for evil. He knew what he wanted to do inside this room; that was, to kill its beautiful occupant.

He approached the four-poster bed and drew the hangings on one side and found the young lad sleeping peacefully. The stranger was taken by surprise by the profile of the one sleeping. He did not expect to see his prey to manage to become even more magnificent in beauty…even after a _hundred years._

"Missed me, Kurosaki Hisoka? I'm back, with revenge so sweet, I cannot wait to put my hands around your smooth neck and suffocate you in your beautiful dreams. My plans for your death will be slow and more painful than your sister's­1."

He placed a pale hand against the cheeks of the sleeping figure as if he was caressing a lover and sighed, "Sleep well. You might not sleep well afterwards. _Thy tempest hath begun_."

He said those with the tone of such sincerity, something like unrestricted passion. Finally, as if it was a going-away gift, this stranger moved to touch his lips with the young man named Hisoka.

This finally stirred the sleeping figure, who, when he awoke, found a man kissing him. His emerald green eyes enlarged out of surprise. This reaction followed an audible gasp of horror and his beating the stranger to get free. His voice failed him as he felt the closeness of this intruder close even more upon him. He was in a state of vulnerability, unable to fight back against his enemy—Kazukata Muraki. He was so unprotected to the dominance of his own foe; the same man he thought died through the explosion at the castle2 a hundred years ago! Nothing could deceive his eyes because his senses worked at such rigidity that he was aware the Muraki was cradling him, smiling, laughing at his triumph to find him so helpless, and fondling him like a porcelain doll that he could break in an instant.

"Go away from me!!" Hisoka cried, though in vain for he was in the clutches of Muraki. The man laughed and said softly, tauntingly in Hisoka's ear, "_Die._"

After that, Hisoka felt a numbing sensation throughout his body, and followed nothingness…and everything went black.

**_to be continued._**

**1** Hisoka had a sister, unconscious by Muraki's working in MOCD.

**2** Tsuzuki caused the explosion in the castle

**_another a/n_**: geez, I feel like I was creating a footnote for a research paper…though I placed that for the sake of those who don't want to read MOCD…I thought the other story was quite morbid…so anyway, please do tell me how this went…I apologize early on about the grammar if it's wrong etc. Thankies! Ja!


	2. Strangers and Meetings

**We Cannot Hold Raindrops**

**Author's Notes**: I think in-story links are not possible so I apologize about the missing link to My Only Correct Decision

:D anyway, I apologize deeply for not updating early on because of my examinations and I had to study XD… thank god they are over. If ever you encounter parts that aren't clear please tell me in your reviews and I'll clarify it…aside from those stuff I post at the end of the fic. Thanks again and gomen ne!

[Chapter I: **_Strangers and Meetings_**]

Today is another of those bright and clear days you can perpetually witness the gay birds singing and the villas splashed with bright crimson, yellows and purple buds as if the land was infected with them. Nothing compares to the beauty of spring at the Ailes Verauche where Hisoka currently lived. It was a small but beautiful country along the coastlines and numerous harbors. Everything was awake, glorious about the morning, except for someone still sleeping in his bed; past the time he was supposed to wake up. No one would suspect Hisoka to be asleep late in the morning as he was the one who usually wakes up early in the morning and be seen around.

No one would be fussing why a sixteen-year-old (or to be exact a hundred and eighteen) boy would not wake up early. Or probably not because someone was already tutting at his bedpost, holding a cold glass of water. It was no other than Oriya, his fencing teacher and also Hisoka's guardian. He did not like to see his best student, forgetting to wake up in the morning. The glass of cold water will serve its purpose later when Hisoka fails to wake up.

"Oi. Lazybones, wake up," Oriya said sternly to his student. He looked at the slumbering figure with contempt as though Hisoka committed a crime against him.

"Hnnn…." Hisoka replied in a grumbling tone, accompanied by a pillow thrown towards Oriya. The teacher sighed after deflecting the pillow thrown at him unconsciously.

"OI. WAKE UP," Oriya repeated, this time, stressing the words loudly so that Hisoka would finally rouse from his sleep. Still, no avail and that the young sensei resorted to his final means of waking his student: splashing the cold water on Hisoka. The result was a loud yelp from Hisoka and another crash on the floor because Hisoka fell after being surprised.

"Finally. I thought you did not have any intentions on getting up because it will cause more reason for me to even make your training harder."

"Eh? Aa! Oriya-sensei!" Hisoka immediately got up from his bed and suddenly noticed the pillow on the floor. Upon realizing what he did, he blushed deeply and bowed low, "Gomen sensei, I-I didn't mean to throw…"

"Enough of those nonsense. Just get dressed."

With that, Hisoka complied and rushed to the screen divider and began changing his clothes, emerging at the other end after a minute or so. After that, he went down to the dining hall and ate his breakfast with haste and got up, after finishing his glass of milk. The grass was still wet with the morning's dew and the sun wasn't hot enough but will soon become so, because of the nearing mid morning. There, Oriya sat amidst the thick bushels under the tree. He stood up after seeing Hisoka arrive and assumed his role as his teacher. Hisoka followed his sensei at the garden where he will practice fencing with his rapier.

"We shall now move to advanced techniques. As far as I remember, your progress is remarkable. However, you still lack form. So we will begin by reviewing the different positions and I will comment on your form. Is that understood?"

"Hai, sensei."

Nothing disturbed Oriya and his pupil for quite a time. Both of them failed to realize that they were practicing for a good two hours. So finally giving up to the prospect to continue, Oriya let Hisoka have his break. They went to the garden table and sat there for a while. Hisoka drank much waster from the pitcher set at the table by one of the servants and inhaled deeply. He followed his expression of a sigh and looked far away into the woods. His mind was disturbed, he was thinking about Muraki and Tsuzuki. _Where are they? Will he be ever back in his life?_

"Oi. You seem to drift again into your own little world. Tell me, you looked stressed since this morning. I want to know what that is," Oriya said, in a low, concerned tone. Though he was not the man to be compassionate, he did care for his student a lot. He had grown affection for Hisoka, as it was his responsibility to take care of him especially after the estate owner, a merchant, who adopted Hisoka died shortly after for an unknown cause.

"Ne, sensei…nothing. Maybe I just lacked sleep, that's all." Hisoka faintly said, not looking into his sensei's eye. He knew he was deliberately lying to the only person who he could trust right now. It was painful to think that _a hundred years ago,_ he could talk to Tsuzuki for any matter. Not in good spirits, Hisoka stood from the chair and took his rapier lying on the ground.

"I suppose you are not fit to practice any longer for today. Get some rest; that's my suggestion," Oriya said while casting a look at Hisoka. He remained nonchalant outside as to not make Hisoka even more anxious. He just sighed inwardly and rose from the table and approached his student, first taking the rapier from Hisoka's hand and then facing him.

"Hisoka, I am sure you will practice if I don't take this. I am serious about you having some time to rest. Fencing just not test how good your form is but also your wit. If you lack wit, you will definitely not be able to perform seamlessly."

"Ha…hai, Oriya-sensei," Hisoka just looked at his teacher who was returning his look more intensely. He did not know what to say. He could not even confide anything to Oriya about his past. Nor could he divulge anything about Muraki unless he knew the man. So he chose to keep silent and let his teacher finish. Oriya, on the other hand, ended their training with a wave and he turn away from his student to leave.

It was only high noon during that time, but the trees in the garden shaded the place where Hisoka sat. He thought it was a slow day, nothing to worry about. Taking the liberty to lay his back on the grass, he stretched comfortably from his sitting position, placed his hands behind his head and lay on the cool, shaded grass. Everything was quiet and nothing dare disturb him from his peace. The clouds took part in Hisoka's slow feeling; they drifted lazily in the sky as if they had a kind of drag, floating and watching all the towns and lands before bulking together and produce rain. The birds sang sweetly in the air. It was like a disturbing cliché reciting its word again and again to nature. Gently, the wind lulled Kurosaki to sleep.

Nature has her own ironies. Something good with her is contrasted by something else, or maybe that is how we think. Later on, the clouds did turn gray, no longer did the sun shine nor did the birds sing. There was a loud explosion and there were shrills from the city people downtown. Hisoka woke with a jolt of surprise as one of his servants tapped him slightly on the shoulder. It seemed that there was a great commotion and that the servants were worried enough to wake him immediately and be brought inside the mansion. He followed the servant inside but stopped midway in the guest hall. Hisoka asked to the girl servant that woke him, "What is going on in the city?"

She replied trembling, "Master, a man has just set fire to quite a number of houses downtown. He did it in the brightness of noon."

"Is that all you know?" Hisoka asked another question and looked directly to the girl. She was deathly pale and was now trembling badly. Still she managed to reply, "Master, do not go to the city for a few days. If so, master Oriya has gone here and said that if this worsens, we must leave!"

"Tell me Riuma what do you know!" Out of frustration, Hisoka grabbed the poor girl's shoulders and held her firmly in front of him. The servant did not look at him even the slightest.

"The madman was…was shouting your…your name! I am afraid for you master!" Riuma sobbed hysterically, and fell to her knees on the cold marble floor. Could have Riuma seen this man that she was so afraid? Was the madman she was referring to the man that he was thinking of a few hours ago—Muraki? He needed to know and he needed to see him at whatever cost. He must know how come he came to live a hundred years later and yet he was not cursed to immortality similar to him, Tsuzuki, Tatsumi or his former confidante, Watari.

"Riuma, Riuma, don't be afraid. I want to know how this man looks like. Have you seen him?"

Riuma gave a look with her bloodshot eyes and nodded lightly before replying, "He is different…he may look normal but his eyes, his eyes were not human…they were amethyst…"

Hisoka dropped his arms to his side; he could not believe what he was hearing. Tsuzuki. _Tsuzuki Asato _is here? Only one man can have those startling eye color aside from his livid green ones that came to become more brighter after he received the curse of immortality in his body and that man was unmistakably Tsuzuki.

He felt numb and was inhibited by nothing. His brain's impulse was to run, run as fast as he could towards the place where the fire was going on. He ran there, and found himself in front of a crowd, watching as the terrible fire claimed into ashes everything the houses were made of. In one of the poles untouched by the blazing fire stood an unrecognizable figure. He was only too familiar that Hisoka was able to identify him.

"Tsuzuki!!!" He yelled at the figure. It seemed to have noticed him for he stood there and then after a surge of fire, he disappeared.

"Tsuzuki!!! YAMETE!" Hisoka called again, readying not realizing he was about to lunge himself to the flames in pursuit of him. Then, a pair of strong hands pulled him backward before he was able to do so. Hisoka angrily shook his shoulders and turned to face the one who pulled him and was surprised. The one who pulled him back was Tatsumi and was followed by Watari behind him.

"Ta-Tatsumi-san! Tsuzuki is…_Tsuzuki is_…" Hisoka desperately wailed to him, his words finally failing him. Tatsumi gave a small shake of his head and pulled the wide-eyed Hisoka away from the crowd that had been watching the scene he was making.

--

Hisoka knelt on the ground like a limp vegetable. He did not want to move nor speak. Tatsumi just sighed as he watched Hisoka on the couch of his hotel room.

"I just arrived with Watari yesterday. I heard your name at the city east from here, saying you were the son of a rich merchant. That merchant died recently and nobody knew the cause of his death. They were rumoring so I thought I would try to see if it was you. And God knows, he sent me here."

Watari brought in hot tea and poured some for Hisoka in a teacup. He inquired whether Hisoka wanted his tea to be with milk and sugar of sugar only as both were favorable to Hisoka.

"Nothing."

Watari looked at Hisoka and then passed the saucer and cup filled with strong tea before speaking. "Hisoka, I am surprised that Muraki has done nothing yet to you. I have heard that he is influential at the other city and so is your name. Are you aware that he is still alive?"

"Yes, I know he is alive. He has started; he visited me last night in my room and strangled me…"Hisoka stated in a matter-of-factly tone. He gave sour expression and continued, "I can't believe _he_ is _alive._"

"I am very interested on how he gained such a lifespan such as ours," Tatsumi said. "So am I," Watari chided Tatsumi's remark.

"I am more interested why Tsuzuki is here and _why hasn't he come to me?_"

Watari and Tsuzuki gave a weary look at each other and then looked back at Hisoka. "We know why."

Watari explained began explaining the time the civil war broke three years after they destroyed of the fortress of Muraki that they all got separated. A year later, Watari discovered that Tatsumi was just hiding at the nearby town he was staying in. The worst part came when they heard that Hisoka was gone. Nobody could even tell where you are. They both assumed Hisoka was alive since he could not die. However, the chance of finding him in the hopes that he was together with Tsuzuki was slim.

It was until one day, they learnt that a man was found wounded and badly burned at the old monastery. They said he had unusual eyes, so they concluded that it was Tsuzuki. However, when they attempted to find him in the monastery. Not a single person could tell who took him nor did anyone take him in. He just disappeared like thin air. Similar incidents occurred until one townsfolk identified him as the man living at the convent with the priests. From there they tracked him stealthily and soon discovered Hisoka's location. Tatsumi and Watari never introduced or showed themselves to Asato-san. They believed that there was something wrong with him.

Both men's beliefs were right, there was something wrong with Tsuzuki. He was as if out of his own mind.

[**_To be Continued_**]

**Author's notes:** (again) I would like to apologize about the convent…I couldn't think of another name for it. Anyway, I hope this chapter was good enough to satisfy my reader's umm (maybe feelings of annoyance) wait for my long uploading of this chapter. I had to study for my exams…well, I did get good scores but a bad one for Algebra…anyway, I do not know if I explained the situation quite okay. If it is or is not, please do tell me and put a reviews ::chibi kitsune mode:: please?

Arigato! Ja mata!


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